Tag Archives: KENYA

ANOTHER MONTH, ANOTHER PAINFUL LOSS

Hallo awesome people,

I’m back.

With something I would like to share. It’s a bit heavy but here goes…

A friend died by suicide on the 17th of March, and it was such a devastating loss for everyone involved.

I’ve hang out with him just a couple of times after moving back home, and each time was an absolute pleasure.

The last time we hang out, it was in his father’s car at our local grocery shop. I was sitting at the back, his favourite female in the entire world was sitting at the passenger seat, while he, obviously, was on the driver’s seat.

As we waited for the attendants to load the items that were on the list into the car, we talked, laughed, and made fun of each other, and our other mutual friends.

We didn’t have a care in the world at that point, at least that’s what it seemed like. Everyone was okay, everyone was happy.

I left the two in the car as I had a short errand to run for my mum in town.

That was the last time I saw him alive. 5th March 2019.

Before this, he had graciously accepted my invitation to our church’s Valentine’s dinner back in February.

He came, and obviously, he was the life of the party.

Here he was, trying to explain what he looked for in an ideal partner.

Before this, he had been playing with an adorable three year old princess, distracting the speakers with how much fun they were having together.

He tried his best to tone it down, but the little girl was having too much fun, and he just got sucked into it completely.

You should have heard the child giggle as they played on the grass. It was the cutest thing ever!

On the afternoon of 15th February, he, along with our two mutual friends, and Sammy, had come to help me with the preparations for the dinner that would be held that evening.

The conversations were endless, and again, everyone seemed okay. Each of us seemed happy and content just being there with one another.

And now, he is no more! He’s gone, and by his own hand, nonetheless.

It just goes to show that we never really know the extent of the darkness that lies beneath our glowing smiles and hearty laughs.

And, it’s no one’s fault.

It isn’t our fault- despite the fact that we were his friends, and could have caught a glimpse of this darkness once or twice, but couldn’t do anything more for him than just laugh with him, and make everything seem okay, albeit for just a couple of minutes.

It isn’t his family’s fault either – I know they tried to show him love and support the best way they knew how. I’m sure they went above and beyond for him, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough.

Sometimes, love is simply not enough.

You can love somebody so much, with every being in your body, but still be incapable of saving them from what is eating them from the inside.

Sometimes, love isn’t enough.

Sometimes the darkness overpowers your will to go one more day.

Sometimes the thread that holds you to your loved ones becomes too miniscule compared to the monster growing inside you.

To quiet the voices, to drown the pain, you choose to do the one thing that would crush your loved ones’ hearts.

But, at least, finally you get your peace. And, eventually, you hope, that they’ll find peace in knowing that you are finally resting.

I am in no way condoning his decision, it hurts, and I can’t possibly imagine what his family is going through.

But, every time I put myself in his shoes, or in my own mother’s shoes, I can see how the battle can become overwhelming, and no amount of talk, love, or support can stop the disease, this darkness, from taking over.

Recently, (literally two days ago), we were ranked the sixth most depressed nation in the world.

That means hundreds of thousands of us are depressed, and our suicide rates are skyrocketing especially amongst our young men.

I think the best thing we can do is to be on the lookout for the earliest signs of depression in our family members, and act upon it immediately.

We need to help people fight their demons way earlier on before the disease spreads farther, and our love, support, and listening ears can’t do much to help.

It’s like cancer – early detection is the only way we can circumvent the effects of the disease.

And, depression is a disease. A serious one, and I’m tired of people my parents’ age not understanding this point, and behaving as if all those that are depressed are a bunch of entitled brats!

Some people are born predisposed to depression.

Others fall into it because of the poisonous societal conditions we’ve managed to create over the years, and seem unwilling to change at least for the sake of our collective mental health.

Right now, I’m at peace because my friend is in peace. He was so young, but somehow the disease had progressed to a point nothing we could do or say would have changed the path he chose to find that peace.

But, I know that in order to stop such a tragedy from happening again, I need to be extra ALERT and pick up on the earliest, smallest signs of depression exhibited by the people around me.

My conversations and interactions will be more meaningful, more insightful. It’s going to be me listening more rather than talking, and allowing my loved ones to be as free as possible around me.

I hope that somehow this helps, and I hope that you too, dear reader, get to do the same for your loved ones.

Anyway,

Goodbye until the next time I have something to tell you.

Kisses πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–

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KIKUYU WOMEN: WE ARE WHO WE ARE

We were hanging out at the local yesterday after work, and as the drinks piled on for them (I just had one cup of yoghurt), an interesting debate ensued- one on the rising cases of women killing their husbands or significant others in this country.

Yes, domestic violence used to be the preserve of men perpetrating it against women, but now, women are meting out this violence on their husbands and boyfriends seemingly everywhere you look with reckless abandon.

It’s alarming to say the least.

During this particular discussion, I was the only female at the table with 5 of the boys, six if you include Sammy, just trying to help each other unwind after a disastrously hard day.

The conversation started with us airing our divergent views on one of the most perplexing marital murder cases to hit our dailies in recent weeks.

A serving magistrate has been accused of murdering her lawyer husband in cold blood alongside three senior police officers.

The details of the murder are gory with the victim having been tortured by the suspects, and then fatally shot SEVEN times.

Gasp!! Who shoots someone seven times? How dead do you want someone to be for it to be necessary to shoot someone seven times?

Anyway.

The magistrate and her co-accused are set to undergo psychiatric assessments before the hearing of evidence against them, and sentencing.

I feel that the psychiatric assessment is justified because there has to be a level of insanity involved when you decide that someone has to be shot SEVEN bloody times.

He wasn’t attempting to run away, he’d just gone through immense torture. I doubt he was barely conscious or mobile by the time they decided to end him. One shot would have sufficed in my opinion.

One clean shot. Seven for what, Goddamit. For what? Madness!

This is such a scary story mainly because of who the prime suspect is, who the victim was, her relation to the victim, and the manner through which this victim sadly met his demise.

This is a woman, first, and secondly, she’s a woman with a seemingly powerful job. She is set.

Her husband is was a lawyer, and by all accounts, this couple was doing well for themselves.

What else could she have possibly wanted in life to push her to such a macabre act? What?

Sadly, this isn’t an isolated case. Many Kenyan women are offing their husbands nowadays, and reports of such incidences are increasing as the years go by.

The worst part about it, and the part that was making my friends very very angry yesterday evening is that most of these cases, whereby the woman is accused of killing the husband in cold blood, rarely make headline news. These ones are usually on the hush-hush.

I feel the only reason that this particular story made headlines was because she was a magistrate, he was a lawyer, and the co-accused are police officers.

Otherwise, this story would have never seen the light of day.

What shocked my friends even more was the fact that the woman in question is not a Kikuyu woman.

From here, the conversation took a sharp turn from how evil women are turning out to be nowadays, and how disenfranchised the boy child is turning out to be economically, socially, and emotionally, to how scary Kikuyu women are.

That’s right. Every time you hear a Kenyan woman has been accused of killing her husband or significant other, the woman is most probably a Kikuyu woman.

And, the killing is never self-defence. It’s usually premeditated with anger at the man, or a desire for the man’s wealth (~96% of the cases) as the main motives.

It gets worse.

Every time you hear that a man’s privates have been cut off, there’s probably an irate, non-repentant Kikuyu woman in the docks for that crime. (She’s probably from a place called Nyeri. Surprise, surprise, I hail from there as well).

And, you will never hear of these women serving jail sentences FYI. Somehow these things are swept under the rug, and not considered as serious domestic violence cases.

It gets even worse.

Every time you see a middle aged Kikuyu woman driving a Harrier, and/or is a landlady with flats especially those sides of Kikuyu (it’s a small town), there’s more likely an elderly gentleman who is six feet under, having died from mysterious causes.

Many of these women usually keep young men to satisfy their sexual needs. When I say ‘keep’, I mean that they sustain these young men financially.

………………………………………………………………………..

Dear reader,

I’m a Kikuyu woman, and I wish I could be, or even act appalled by this stereotyping of the women in our tribe, myself included, but the evidence is too loud to be ignored.

Everywhere you look, Kikuyu women are killing their husbands for all sorts of reasons, or beating them senseless, or taking all of their wealth, and leaving them destitute and hopeless.

Yes, Kikuyu women are to be feared.

One of the guys in the group, who is Kikuyu by the way, took it a notch further by letting us know that there was no way he would sleep with a Kikuyu woman.

Never!

It kind of hurt because he’s super cute, and unfortunately now, there’s no Kikuyu woman who will ever experience that yumminess.

All because we are known for all the wrong reasons.

We’re constantly shooting ourselves on the foot, we Kikuyu women.

If it is not our excessive love for money and material trappings, it’s our bad cooking; or our collectively poor fashion sense; or our temper that has no equal; or our inability to submit to our partners; or our lack of interest in coitus (apparently, we are known for just laying there).

….or the fact that we kill our men, or dismember them when they annoy us, or when they have become too much of a bother.

It’s not that all Kikuyu women exhibit the above traits, it’s just that many of these traits are common in so many of us that it must be a thing.

Do I exhibit any of these traits?

Let me start by saying that my cooking is phenomenal. I mean my own parents, who for your information are my harshest and biggest critics and from whom compliments are as rare as a clean Kenyan politician, think my cooking is amazing.

So do my brothers, and practically anyone I have ever cooked for in the last two years. Before that I wouldn’t be caught dead in the kitchen.

So, I’m not a bad cook. I hope that I have made that point abundantly clear.

The sex part- let’s just say that as I continue to age, I am getting more comfortable trying out new positions. But, yes, there was a time before that when all I did was just lay there.

I do, however, have a temper like seemingly the rest of the women folk in my community.

A bad one. One that can easily push me to violence in a split second.

It’s quite scary actually, especially now when you realize how many men are suffering from domestic violence abuse.

I hope I never lay a hand on my spouse (violently, that is). I hope this rotten aspect of being a Kikuyu woman from Nyeri never rears its ugly head because I never ever ever want my spouse to be part of that horrible statistic.

Am I submissive? No!

Do I have some semblance of fashion sense? Nowadays I do, actually!

Am I attracted to men because of their wealth and money? No! I am mainly attracted to people based on how cute or smart or funny or unique they are.

I was once in a relationship with someone because of how cute their nose was.

It gets worse.

I fell for my current boyfriend because he has dreadlocks! (I know, you want to hit me right now, but, I like what I like).

Furthermore, I have a ‘provider’ mindset, which means that I love providing for myself and the person I want to get nasty with.

At least on that note, the Kikuyuness didn’t rub off on me.

Anyway.

I love being a short Kikuyu woman. I wouldn’t change it for the world even with all the stereotypes that exist about us.

Like every other woman who has ever lived, I’m just going to have to rise above these stereotypes about women like me, and change/control some of the things about myself that would cause others around me to believe in these stereotypes simply because of my actions.

Enjoy your weekend, people πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–.

BEFORE YOU GET A SPONSOR- LESSONS LEARNT FROM SHARON’S DEATH

When the news of Sharon Otieno’s death broke two months ago, the whole country froze! It was all any of us could talk or think about for the many weeks that followed.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. My parents were accompanying me to Komarock to see a parcel of land (because in my father’s eyes I’m still a baby who can’t be trusted to make big decisions- there’s also the small matter of him being a licensed land surveyor making him much more experienced in these matters than I will ever be).

In the car with us were two other friendly surveyors from the company selling the land, and the news of Sharon’s death was all we talked about to and from Komarock. The details were still sketchy but they spread like wildfire on social media, giving us a lot of material to discuss.

Her death continued to make headlines throughout October as the prime suspects were arraigned in court.

Why has her death been so captivating?

– It was the way she was murdered- it was beyond macabre; the gory details of the murder of this young woman seemed to be straight out of a horror movie script

– it was the fact that she was pregnant- 7 months no less; (FYI in Swahili, an unborn baby is known as kilenge; I just thought you should know)

– it was the fact that there were stab wounds on the foetus’ body. This is just another level of inhuman.

– and it was also because of who was implicated in the murder- a sitting governor! The father of the baby she was carrying!

That man was granted bail a few days ago after spending a month in jail. On that day, there was a jubilant crowd of his home supporters outside the court room ready to embrace their son. (Can I just point out that many of those supporters eagerly awaiting his release on bail were women- talk about being our own worst enemy, ladies..)

I did not see a crowd full of the slain woman’s family’s supporters. There were no placards demanding justice for Sharon and her late child.

The main suspect, was out. He was happy; he was relaxed.

He gets to hug his family members. That must be a relief.

I don’t understand why his wife is still with him, though- I hope I never have that level of ‘grace’.

Plus, I don’t envy her at all, woi; I wouldn’t want to sleep in the same room with such a man.

Let’s put this into perspective- your husband is accused of murdering a girl, his lover to be precise. She is young enough to be your daughter, and it turns out she was seven months pregnant, with his child, no less.

How are you supposed to be even in the same house with such an alleged monster, leave alone let him lie next to you for an entire night? What level of sanity are you required to have mastered in order to even stand to look at him…to hear him speak as if everything is normal, and that everything in the news is a bunch of hogwash?

I just can’t!

And her kids! Her kids! Jesus, they must be traumatized by their father’s alleged actions. They are probably not getting over this soon. (I am trying to put myself in their shoes-hopefully, they are good, sane kids. On the other hand, they could be horrible, entitled kids for all we know, and they are sleeping very well at night, their mother too).

He gets to resume his duty as governor because in our Constitution, you are not guilty until you are proven so by a court of law.

So guess what Migori?! You have an alleged murderer, and a confirmed sexual predator preying on young women in your universities as your county leader- you guys must have won some raffle!!!

I wonder how the murder, the investigations, the arrests have affected business and investments in Migori county. That would be a super interesting case study on why having an alleged criminal as your county governor is bad for business. Maybe then Kenyans will learn to choose leaders of good character (a girl can hope).

Okay, back to the story.

So, he has been set free on bail, and I expect he is going to move on with his life, and to do everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, to put this matter to rest (including appearing in a local church unannounced; because PR is important even when facing murder charges).

He is a powerful man, and powerful men have the means to make things happen.

Everyone is going to move on with their lives.

Everyone except Sharon….

Except her unborn baby (her kilenge)…

Except her living kids…

Except her mother and father…

I dare say that even her former husband is not going to move on from this treacherous ordeal.

This is a sad story but one that is full of lessons for everyone that it has touched.

I think the biggest lesson I have learned from this deadly love affair is one on the power dynamics of sponsor-sponsee relationships.

It is quite obvious that in such relationships, the sponsor is the one with the power, and he/she can use any means necessary to make you do as he pleases.

There is no love; they just like the fact that they can control you.

There’s no equality here, your only value is providing pleasure, mainly of the sexual kind (which is also the best kind FYI especially if there is no power play involved).

They are also deriving pleasure from how easily they can control you mentally, emotionally, and physically.

There is even no semblance of respect; you are a mere tool that he/she can discard once your purpose is done, or once you begin to appear like you are becoming a threat.

Woe unto you if you think you even have a chance to wrestle this power from him/her.

That’s when you become a threat. At this point, you need to be neutralised.

From my understanding of the case, Sharon thought that she could control her sponsor and make him do her bidding. She completely overestimated her position in this arrangement. This was her fatal mistake.

DO NOT make the same one.

Another critical lesson closely tied to the one above is that you shouldn’t try to outsmart or trap your sponsor.

These individuals are significantly older than you, almost twice or thrice your age. How in the world do you think you can outsmart them, or try to trap them?

These people have lived. They know all the rules of the game, and they already know every move your naive self will make even before you think of making it.

Don’t go playing mental games with these people because they will mess you up. Stick to your lane, sponsee, and only play such games with your agemates (although this might end in disaster as well, so it’s just best to avoid setting traps for any individual you are sleeping with just to be on the safe side).

These are not individuals to have children with- you are not trapping your sponsor, you’re trapping yourself- to a lifetime of fights, disrespect, shame, and money problems (the same ones you were trying to avoid by trying to baby trap someone).

Final lesson- Never get in too deep with these individuals. You need to leave some wiggle room so that when shit hits the fan, and it will eventually, you can flee unscathed.

That means no kids.

That means keeping crucial information about yourself secret from your blesser so that they can’t use such information against you.

That also means not participating in any illegal business with your blesser. You are only there to exchange your sexual goodies for monetary ones; not try your luck at being a crime lord.

If you are already in the mix, be careful. Your sponsor can just as easily throw you under the bus when you guys are finally caught. Woe unto you if you had been the face of the operations. You, my friend, are in shit because the only one paying penance is you, you gullible fool!

I don’t think there’s a happy ending in a sponsor/sponsee relationship. The dynamics of such relationships make them too cumbersome and dangerous to be appealing to anyone, and yet so many of us, just like Sharon, are falling into this trap head first.

It’s just best to avoid these kinds of arrangements. Period.

Only greed and blind ambition can drive you to invite all of this unnecessary drama of super old, super creepy, super dangerous, and let’s not forget, utterly demeaning sex into your life.

Simply living within your means will save you a world of trouble.

But, if you must have a sponsor (because your greed is beyond your control, and you are only thinking short term), you have to realize you are only a service provider, there’s absolutely nothing special about you.

This is a business like every other. Provide the service, receive your payment, and wait for the next time your services will be required. Never let it get to your head if you want to keep your head, you feel me?

Parting Shot:- Know your place, sponsee, know your place.

IS A GLOBAL RECESSION IN THE OFFING?

This post is not meant to alarm you, although to be honest I am a bit alarmed myself.

It seems that a global recession is in the making. This is according to Tiz Gambacorta, an investor, serial entrepreneur, and a reputable digital marketer. I subscribe to his weekly newsletters, and last week’s newsletter was discussing a looming global financial recession.

Tiz is not the only one who thinks like this. Many economists, financial market analysts, as well as big-time investors have been saying the same thing for the last couple of years, but their predictions have not come to pass ‘convincingly’.

Unfortunately, that does not mean that it is not coming. And the way Tiz put it on his website actually had me freaking out.

Here in Kenya, the perception is that the economy is always bad, so most people would not pay heed to alerts over a global recession. Well, maybe until it is about too late, and there is practically nothing we can do (except politicize the matter).

Whether these predictions become actual state of affairs is a matter of time. What I do know is that it is going to hit our country hard, mainly because of the perilous position we have placed our economy in.

For those who do not know, we are in the throes of a Chinese debt trap and IMF has backed us into a corner in regards to increasing the tax on petroleum and other basic goods. The cost of living is absurdly high at the moment, and our country’s economic activity is sure to take a hit as a result.

Let us not forget that just last week, we lost access to the IMF Standby Credit Facility, exposing us to a myriad of risks occasioned by external financial shocks. Our economy could collapse because we do not have protection from global economic shocks.

Yes, we are in trouble, and we are about to be in even graver danger if what Tiz and his fellow analysts are predicting about a looming global financial recession comes true.

There is reason to fear. The signs are there, and they are pretty convincing.

Let us start with an obvious one – the contraction of activity in major markets across the world.

Most markets have seen a reduction in activity for the better part of the year. We are talking about the Asian markets, the European markets, the Latin American markets, as well as the African emerging markets.

Most alarming are the major Chinese markets performing extremely poor this year. Granted, the slipping has a lot to do with US-China trade wars that have continued to take centre stage throughout 2018. However, the poor performance of the Chinese markets could point to a major decline in global economic activity away from its catastrophic side-shows with America.

China’s year to date market indices have continued to drop into double digits. She is currently the world’s largest producer, and its markets’ contraction means that most countries have slowed down their importing activity.

The US could also tip towards recession if it continues to escalate this trade war with China. Most of her imports come from China, and the additional tariffs on Chinese imports could crumble American businesses (it is a strong hypothetical).

The year to date market indices of the European markets is not fairing as well either. Germany is Europe’s main manufacturing powerhouse, and its markets continue to post poor results. This demonstrates that there is a reduction in activity in Europe as well.

The screenshot below shows the major markets’ indices across Europe, Asia, and America. If you look at most of the YTDs across the markets, you will see that they are red in colour, indicating a decline in performance. The Chinese markets are especially doing bad because their YTD performances have slipped by double digits.

According to Tiz, and other like-minded market analysts, the problem began in the Latin American countries, and owing to the contagion effect, the contraction of economic activity has continued to spread throughout the world.

We should also be very concerned at the rate at which global currencies are weakening, some even into double digits. This is a snapshot of some of the worst performing global currencies at the moment based on their year to date percentage change against the US dollar. Majority of the globe’s currencies are sliding in value, and not just the emerging and poor markets captured in the snapshot.

Perhaps one of the biggest tell-tale signs of a looming global recession is an inverting global yield curve. According to several financial publications such as this one, the average global yield curve is inverting, and history dictates that when the yield curve inverts, a recession is in the making.

When a country’s yield curve inverts it means that investors expect higher short term returns on bonds rather than the norm, which is higher returns on long term investments in the bonds.

Usually, long term bonds attract higher interest rates than the short term ones. However, the opposite occurs when investors perceive that short term investments are riskier than long term investments.

The flight to dollar is another clear indication that we are facing turbulent economic times. This characteristic has been a consistent early warning sign of a recession.

Investors, businesses, and other governments see the US dollar and her debt as a safe haven when the global economy is going south. Hence, there is a higher demand for US currency and debt as entities around the world try to brace themselves for an economic downturn mainly by stocking up on dollar reserves.

This flight to dollar is probably the reason the US dollar is still going strong, and its individual yield curve has not inverted yet.

So there you have it. An inverting global yield curve, weakening of currencies’ performances, declining performances in major markets, as well as the flight to dollar are some of the major signals that a global recession is in the offing.

Kenyans, brace yourselves! It is going to be a bumpy economic ride.

WHAT A WOMAN! WHAT A STORY!

If there is one Kenyan woman in the public stratosphere that I hold in the highest regard, other than Wangari Maathai of course, it is Esther Akoth. My reverence for this woman cannot be put into words, but I will try.

I love this woman. I love everything she embodies. She is all of the things we women have been conditioned to not be in order for the system to keep us β€˜in our place’. She is confident, she is aggressive, she is a provider, and she is a dream chaser. She makes her own path. No one can tell Akothee no, and it is such a shame that more women like these are missing within the public domain especially in our entertainment industry.

She is unaffected by all the hateful and condescending criticisms that Kenyans throw at her on an almost every day basis. We do this because we want to break her spirit. We realize she is a force and we want to put her back in her β€˜rightful’ place. She is shaking our patriarchal establishment to its core and most of us, including many of us women, were never ready for this change.

We ridicule her, her lifestyle, her music, her life choices, and we label her as a Kenyan laughing stock. But, as has become the norm for us Kenyans, we are living in denial. Akothee is not a laughing stock. The only laughing stock here is us Kenyans for not realizing the true magnitude of Akothee’s influence. She is a freaking revolution! And she is changing the narrative on a whole list of societal issues, the most important one being how single mothers, and women, in general, should view themselves.

One of the many things I have learned from her and her lifestyle is to embrace womanhood and be unapologetic about it. She is a sexual being and she is not ashamed of her body. She embraces her sexuality, and she flaunts it. She works on her body, and flaunts it some more. All those pictures of her in skimpy clothing, is for me, an appreciation of who she is and where she has come from. She looooves her body! She works hard for it. That body has given her five amazing kids, and she is literally paying tribute to the miracle that is the female body in each of those posts.

Multiple kids later, coupled with the stress of raising them on her own seemingly has not deterred her from fulfilling her idea of a healthy, sexy body. She has worked hard for that body and no one, not even a vast number of self-loathing Kenyan women, will stop her from flaunting it at every opportunity. That is more than inspirational for me as well as for the other countless women who know deep down they are not working hard enough to keep their bodies healthy and fit.

Another thing that completely blows my mind is her love life. She has had 5 kids, and her love life is still going strong. 5 kids and she still has some time to develop a sexual relationship with someone. She is a single mother of 5 kids, a musician, and a businesswoman, and she still has time to develop a serious relationship. Where does she find the energy?

This brings me to my next point. This woman is the mother of fresh starts. She has not given up on love even after her baby daddies left, one after the other. This woman has a backbone and a half. I am sure she has gone through a host of heartbreaks with the men that she has been involved with in the past, and yet, she does not let that phase her. From my armchair observations, it has actually helped her figure out the kind of man she really wants, and she is not willing to settle for less.

She is also the queen in my book for chastising the majority of women on their inability to stop relying on men for their upkeep. She has children with different fathers, yes. All these men are expected to pay child support, which is the law. However, child support or not, she hustles seriously in order to give her and her kids the best.

How many women in this country are using their children as meal tickets? How many?

You cannot put this woman down, regardless of what we and life throw at her. She should be lauded for her tenacity, her courage, and her perseverance. She deserves it.

She has risen above her circumstances countless of times, and this is something worth celebrating and idolizing.

She’s a real-life heroine and we better recognize.

#Callpolis…

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE KENYAN IN 2018?

Being a Kenyan over the last few years has been nothing short of a ceaseless mental and emotional torture.

I swear, being Kenyan corrupts you. It’s like a pair of shears cutting through your moral fabric each and every day. Your spirit is in constant moral decay, and you feel parts of you getting lost. The innocence is gone. You’re dirty! You’re dirty! and your mind and your soul is filled with filth. And your pastor, God bless his soul, cannot help you because he is stained as well.

He’s dirty, you’re dirty, our kids are dirty, our home managers are dirty, our bankers are dirty, our teachers are dirty, the environmentalists are dirty, our doctors are dirty, our musicians are dirty, our policemen are dirty, our farmers are dirty….our mums, our dads, they are dirty too.

Our moral police is filth incarnate!

We are all stained!

Being Kenyan…

You are constantly unhappy; constantly complaining, but the source of your unhappiness is so far from you; it’s much bigger than you and you cannot touch it; you cannot solve it.

You see it in the newspaper every day, and you hear it over the radio, but what can you do except bury your head in the sand and try to push your miserable life along? When will this sordid existence end? You could try to pray, but you know you’re stained, and you do not feel worthy. Do Kenyan prayers really reach heaven? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

This stain…

It surrounds you, it engulfs you; it suffocates you, and you’re dying inside. You screamΒ but no one is listening. It’s like no one cares. They are blaming for your predicament, like, how stupid could you be to put yourself in this situation?

Yes. Everyone else is laughing at you, pointing at you, jeering at you. Wondering what the hell were you thinking? Why weren’t you smart enough to know that you were entering this big, big, big-ass hole? How dumb are you?

Being Kenyan…

It feels commensurate to being that naive girl who doesn’t see past the charms and the lies of the middle-aged neighborhood fuck-boy. You know the ones I am talking about; mmmh, they are everywhere.

So, here we are, the naive girl getting fucked over and over and over again by someone who will never treat us like humans; he will never see us as people. All we will ever be to him is a bitch to lay. And he’s doing it raw people, he’s doing it raw! To make matters worse, we are feeding him and clothing him. Funding his very existence!!

And, he has convinced you it’s fun when his friends join in, and that he likes to watch. And there you are, pining away over this mediocre dick, thinking he is God’s gift to women. Who cursed us? Who really cursed us?

He doesn’t care about our dreams, our aspirations, or where we want to be in 2030. He and his cronies promised you the good life with lots of wine and fine dining. Do you remember how they promised the moon,Β and good roads, and good hospitals, better trade, better healthcare, better sex?

Or is your mind so far gone right now that you cannot remember that part, the good days? The days he was trying to woo you, and he made you feel like you were the rarest, most beautiful thing on this planet?

Well, it’s been a couple of years now and so far none of those promises have come true. All he does is keep fucking you and you keep buying his tripe. Why? Well, maybe you’re delusional, like most other naive girls. It could also have something to do with the fact that your self-esteem is in the gutter because your parents told you that you were worthless, you were an ingrate, you are lazy, entitled, and don’t know the meaning of real work.

It could also be because you have only been messing around with old men since 63, and you think this band of fuckboys is legitimate and a step-up from what you are used to.

Being Kenyan is not healthy, and it has not been for a long time.

Being Kenyan is wrong!

Being Kenyan is a punishment, and some of us were born just the other day, and we do not know what we are being punished for.

Wait, I know. I know what we are being punished for. Generational mistakes, for sure. From the time of our grandparents and great-grandparents, each generation has had a dalliance with this kind of nonsense and no one batted an eye. None of these generations had the balls to walk out of these sexually ungratifying, money sucking innuendos.

Sooner or later, we are going to get pregnant like the generations before us, and we are going to be forced to see this pregnancy through. When these babies come, it won’t be a celebratory moment. They will not be children, these ones.

Nope, the ones coming after us are going to be MONSTERS! Monsters that we helped create because we were afraid. Too dumb and too afraid to grab that niggah by the balls and tell him to get out of our goddamn house and our goddamn lives.

Yap. that is what it means to be Kenyan in 2018. Getting fucked, raw, over and over and over again, by a middle-aged, unemployed, illiterate, foul-smelling, cheap liquor drinking, hair-receding fuck boy whose in and out in three minutes. And, don’t forget about his cronies, they are in this too.

Let’s be honest. We have no future, we have no souls. They have taken everything; everything we worked for, everything we believed in. And now, we are their slaves, and our children will be slaves, and our children’s children will be slaves. There is no end. This is Kenya!